Why do we have no problem praying for God to heal a child’s cancer, but feel odd asking Him to fix our stuffy nose? Do we assume He’s too busy to deal with the little stuff, or are we limiting what He’s capable of and what He cares about?

Why do we find it so easy to pray in a church building, but feel strange doing it in the shower before we start our day, or while sitting on the commode? Are we so certain that God is so big and holy that He can only be approached in a reverent manner? And certainly not while we’re naked or doing personal business in the bathroom?!

I mean, sure He invented our bodies, and everything about them, including our private parts and even our elimination processes, but He doesn’t wanna see that! Right?! We feel shame about certain circumstances much like Adam and Eve did in the garden after eating the forbidden fruit. We rush to hide our nakedness, of body and thought-life, to keep them hidden from God.

But is He calling, “where are you child? Why have you hidden yourself from me?”

So we think, God is too big, busy, and divine to hear about the traffic on the way to work, and I’m sure He has little concern over the spat I had with my best friend. He cares about the monumental things that effect the world at large, and surely He leaves the little details of my day to me.

Why do we put God in a box?

Who are we to assume what He cares about and what He does not?

So, why do we consider certain aspects of our life worth sharing with the Lord, but not others?

We’ll ask God to bless our bank account, but not our marriage bed. We’ll pray about things like the physical health of our children, but consider sex too taboo to discuss with the big guy upstairs. And what does that mean anyway? Guy upstairs? Doesn’t He live right here in our hearts?

That really gets us thinking.

But that would mean He’s with me when I wash my butt, do that wild thing under the covers that drives my husband crazy, when I’m picking my nose, and cussing out that slow driver in the left hand lane of the highway!

I’m not sure I’m ready to think about that!

Yes, it’s much easier to imagine Him like a fatherly genie who grants wishes when I ask for my co-worker’s test results to come back good, or to bless the Thanksgiving feast when we say grace.

He can be the God who comes through when I need Him, but who stays in the shadows when I don’t.

He can be the God of Sunday, for sure, but hopefully not the God of Friday night.

He can stay aloft in the clouds making me feel guilty at altar call, but otherwise attending to more pressing matters while I gossip about my neighbor.

He can stay in His box until I’m ready to take Him out! He can be the big God I come to when I think about it, hit a valley in life and really need Him, or perhaps when I finally get my life straight! I can’t imagine He’d be interested in a screw up like me and my everyday mundane. Maybe I’ll ask the preacher to pray for me or my grandma. I mean, she has like a straight phone line to the big guy!

Yeah, I’m gonna keep God is this religion box. It says I need to follow all the rules before I can talk to Him one-on-one about my life. Plus my life is pretty dull, and I know ain’t nobody got time for that. I know that pastor said once something about Jesus being the new covenant that gives me access to the Father, but I’m pretty sure you have to be ‘not sinning’ for that to work. And I know I heard something about Jesus taking away my sins and making me new, but I don’t know if that counts if I’m still struggling with that one thing.

That one thing. I know I can’t talk to God about that! He’s probably sick and tired of me asking for help with that. He’s probably wondering why I haven’t licked it yet. Better wait until I get it straightened out.

Plus He’s got lots of kids to save from fires, persecuted Christians overseas to rescue, and calamities to keep calm. He doesn’t have the time or interest in whether I take the new job, buy that used car, or volunteer at my kid’s school. I can take care of this, and He can work on the important stuff.

But what constitutes important to God?

What if me loving my spouse makes Him smile? Or what if He enjoys when I ask Him to not let it rain on the day of my yard sale? What if He sees me as His child just like the Bible says, and because of that He cares about every single aspect of my day? What if He wants me to ask so that He can answer? What if He likes giving me the desires of my heart and showing me how He can work out even the tiniest detail just for me?

What if we took God out of the box and let Him live in our hearts? What if we realized we can walk with Him just like Moses did? Each and every day, every moment, conversing with the One who loves us more than anything else in this world?

What if we realized when we limit our approach to God we’re really limiting God?

What if we accepted the relationship He offers and put religion in the box? And while church, community, accountability, and rules have their purpose… if they overshadow God’s grace making Him appear unapproachable then they’re not doing what God intended at all.

He wants to love us, be with us, and be a part of everything we are a part of each day. He wants to walk hand in hand, hear every problem, and be the center of our life. He wants constant conversation and constant trust. Anything less, such as thinking some parts of our life don’t interest or involve Him… that’s simply putting God in a box.

I can remember roughly six years ago reading the Old Testament and I paused at one verse in particular. Well, actually, if you’ve sat down and read the Old Testament through I’m sure you’ll agree that you do a lot of stopping and pondering, but the specific verse I’m referring to was in Exodus.

Exodus 9:12

But the LORD hardened Pharaoh’s heart and he would not listen to Moses and Aaron, just as the LORD had said to Moses.

Upon first reading I naturally couldn’t understand. Why would God turn the heart of a man against those who He found favor in, like Moses and the Israelites? I mean, He wanted His people to go. Later, God would show me why.

But at the time I thought about it throughout the day off and on as I cleaned house, and somewhere between the bathroom sink and tub I felt the Lord speak to me. Have you ever had situations where God speaks to your spirit and it’s so powerful and certain that you have no doubt it’s His voice? Well, I’ve had this happen several times over the years, and this was one of those times. The thing was, in my human mind it made no sense what He said. It didn’t seem to coincide with things I had learned so far in my Christian walk, yet for some reason it just resonated with my spirit as true. I’ll try to explain.

As I stood scrubbing my bathroom I felt the Lord impress strongly upon me, “I hardened his heart. I changed it.”

I knew immediately what He was referring to. Although, at the time, it was about four years since my divorce, I had recently begun having trouble with it. I hated that it bothered me! After all, I had gotten remarried to a wonderful man, and we had started a beautiful family. I was incredibly happy; I had no doubt, yet some strange part of me felt bad about my divorce. I did believe divorce to be a sin, but I had confessed to the Lord my fault in that relationship. I suppose a large part of my pain from my divorce resided in the fact that I felt rejected and unworthy. My ex-husband had come home one day and proclaimed he did not love me anymore.

Anytime you become one flesh with someone you make soul ties that are not easily broken. I had spent years working through the release of this relationship, but what remained was a broken piece of myself that felt I was the kind of woman worth leaving. It had wounded me deeply, following in the heart-steps of my biological father’s abandonment of me, and while I need you to understand that I’m not trying to play the victim card here, I am laying out honestly how my human heart felt after these broken relationships.

So when I felt the Lord tell me that He had hardened my ex-husband’s heart it was like a weight lifted from my shoulders. In that moment I felt a peace about the divorce I had never experienced before, and I have never experienced any sadness or regret about the relationship since. At that moment I gave it completely to Jesus, and I’ve never tried to take the pain back.

You might have a raised eyebrow right now and be asking, “but why would God tell your husband to divorce you?! That’s not Biblical!” And I agree with you. It’s not. The Lord didn’t tell my ex to ask me for a divorce. He made that decision all on his own. But I am of the belief that the Lord did intervene for my life similar to how He worked with pharaoh.

Back to the Old Testament. The thing is, Pharaoh was never gonna let God’s people go. He hardened his own heart towards them multiple times. God knew what Pharaoh was going to do before Pharaoh did. God simply hastened along what the man had in his heart already, for the purposes of His will.

Now, I’m not saying my ex is like Pharaoh, but I am saying this. I do not believe I entered into the marriage seeking God’s will, and I certainly had turned my back to Him at the time. I was living outside of God’s will for my life, and while I don’t believe God would tear apart my marriage (since He is against divorce), I do believe that when he saw my ex-husband’s heart was headed that way, He worked the disaster that was ensuing to His kingdom purposes. My ex was unhappy. He had told me so a year prior to our divorce. He had refused counseling, and rather than us floundering through the unhealthy and damaging, eventual destruction, I believe God hardened that man’s heart to me the rest of the way.

In the midst of the pain of my broken marriage I turned back to God, as human hearts often do in times of trial. I’m slightly ashamed it took such a thing to make me cry out to Him, but I’m grateful He used it to begin bringing me back to the plans He had for my life all along.

So what’s the purpose of this post? Am I preaching? Certainly not. No theologian here, for sure. Am I sharing brokenness, and how I believe that God worked what the devil meant for my harm to His good? Absolutely. You might not agree, and you don’t have to. It’s between the Lord and me what He fulfills in my life. But if you find yourself in a tough spot right now, under condemnation rather than conviction, or under self-loathing rather than seeing yourself worthy in His sight, then I hope this might help you in some small way. Because even in the midst of your worst struggles, biggest failures, and most trying times, God is there. He directs paths, heals hurts, and brings beauty from the ashes for those who turn to His mercy, grace, and forgiveness.

My husband is a Christian, but he’s never been the kind of guy who wears a neon, flashing sign that says Jesus, dropping tracts in his path. Instead he’s the quiet, contemplative type who listens to the Lord’s prompting while loving big every person he encounters. Whether it be a needed smile or even a big hug, he’s the type of man who shows you the heart of Jesus through his everyday walk.

Earlier this year, when the weather just started to get warm, he made a point to give a delivery man a bottle of water. Being a restaurant owner, my husband encountered people on a regular basis, and he liked to spread his friendly warmth with everyone who came across his path. And so it was with a guy who delivered regularly to his store. When the fella would show up he’d always offer a cool drink and a kind word.

I can even recall being with him one day and watching him jog off after saying to me, “be right back.” I had watched as he ran to the cooler, handed the gentleman a water bottle, smiling as they spoke back and forth exchanging friendly banter, then seeing him conclude the conversation with an affectionate pat on the guy’s back before waving goodbye and coming back to me.

So I can’t say I was surprised when he recently shared with me a conversation between the man and himself. The delivery man shared with my husband just how much their interactions over the year had meant to him. He explained some serious trials he had endured just that year, and how my husband’s constant kind words and actions had helped him in a way my spouse could never know.

That’s the thing, you see. You never can know how your actions can impact those around you. A kind word, a smile, a listening ear, or even a cold drink on a hot day. It can be just the small token someone needs to believe the world is still good. So as you bustle about your busy day, be it this holiday season, or even afterwards, the very best gift you can give to those around you is your kindness. Your time, your attention, and your conversation may be the very thing someone is looking for right that moment. Something as simple as a smile can be the hands and feet of Jesus, and something as easy to offer as a bent ear can be a lifeline for someone going through a difficult time.

As 2018 approaches I pray we all may be the light this world needs, and realize that to many we may be the only example of Christ that they encounter.

She was gurgling. Oh God, she was gurgling as she breathed, and my heart was certainly beating even faster than the high rate I saw displayed on her bedside monitor. I grabbed shakily for the Yankauer suction above her bed. I knew that’s what it was called. I was in my first semester of nursing school, so I knew what the suction was for, but I hadn’t actually used one on a real person before.

My mother didn’t look like a real person at all. Laying there in the bed, swollen, bruised, with about a billion lines and tubes running from her. She had been flown to this trauma ICU bed after a horrific car crash, and being in the best hospital in the area should have given me peace, but it didn’t. The truth was I was scared to death, scared I was gonna lose my momma, and despite me sticking that suction thing half-heartedly into her mouth, she was still making a sound like she was breathing through water. I hit the call button frantically.

Where was the nurse?!! I wondered. Couldn’t she see this was not a good situation? Shouldn’t someone be stationed right here at her side until she could at least open her own eyes and ask for help? Why was it taking so long?!! Why wasn’t the nurse coming?!!

Fast forward twenty years and now I’m that nurse. I’m the one who wants to be at your momma’s bedside, but who also has someone’s father, husband, and son in the other ICU room. I’m the one who is limited by space and time in my physical body, but who more times than not, wishes I wasn’t.

Here’s what you may not realize as a concerned family member.

I am concerned too. Your family member is also important to me. They’re more than a patient number. They’re a human being who is loved. I have been the daughter at the bedside, and one day, as my husband and I age, I realize I may be the concerned wife also.

I don’t want you to wait. Seriously. I really don’t. I want to attend to your need as quickly as possible, but when you don’t see me I am attending to another patient’s need at that time. Another important, unique, loved family member who occupies another bed. Or perhaps I am even tending to myself. Trust me when I say you want a nurse with a full belly and empty bladder. We can focus so much better in that condition.

I know that being sick is difficult, and I know that watching someone you love fall ill is even harder sometimes. I understand that emotions are raw, nerves are frayed, and angry words come easy in such a stressful, uncertain environment. That doesn’t mean I don’t get hurt feelings or frustrated occasionally, but it does mean I try my best not to because I truly sympathize and empathize with each patient and family member. Those are the things you cannot see under the surface of my calm, efficient manner.

When the nurse finally arrived to my mother’s bedside she quickly took the suction from my hand. She seemed so blasé, as if she was not concerned at all. She went about quickly settling my mother down, and then just as quickly left the room. I wasn’t sure what to think at the time, although I was grateful that my mother seemed to be breathing easier. Looking back I realize I didn’t know that important oxygen readings were being transmitted to a monitor outside the room so they could know immediately if my mother was in respiratory distress.

I didn’t realize at the time that what may have been concerning and scary for me was a natural and expected presentation in a critical care setting. I took the nurse’s demeanor as indifference when it was in fact an attitude of efficient knowledge and calm clarity to act on my mom’s best interest.

I didn’t take into account other patients. I only saw my mother. I didn’t see someone else’s mother in the very next room. And that’s ok; it’s human nature. Even today if one of my children found themselves in the hospital, my mommy heart would feel they were the patient needing the most attention at that moment. The thing is, nurses feel the same about their patients. To nurses, each patient is important and deserving of our care, but it’s our difficult responsibility to triage out our resource of self as fairly and efficiently as possible.

But here’s the other thing I probably didn’t see back then. I am quite certain that nurse cared for my mother. Cared, as in had great concern for her welfare as a human being. From my experience, nursing is a chaotic, challenging, and frequently a poorly compensated profession. So if a nurse is there it’s because they have a heart for the vocation. Their patients are their purpose, and even if it may not appear that way, they care.

As I sat rocking my two year old to sleep I couldn’t help but be overwhelmed by her beauty, by the very essence of her innocence that sat like a halo about her head, or be affected by the underlying thought that she was my last baby. My last baby that was growing so quickly. I breathed in her goodness, soaked in her pouty lips and long eyelashes. A peace settled over my heart as I lay down on the bed holding her sleeping body and felt the weight of her little chest against mine.

Thank you, Lord. I thought. Thank you for this gift.

I had just been wrapping gifts, in fact. Lots of presents for all the people I loved. Although this was our first year to only buy what we could afford, refusing to put anything on a credit card, or buy tons of toys that weren’t really needed, I still had a bunch to wrap. Yet despite the mild mountain of presents awaiting me in the other room, I lay in the dark savoring one of my favorite gifts.

The past few years of my life as a mother had involved a lot of stress, hurried schedules, and toppling to-do lists. Although overall the role of motherhood was one I adored, many times over the years I had felt less than grateful, restful, or overflowing with peace. I mean, deep down I was grateful, and typically at the end of a tough day, near exhausted tears, I would recall that. And I’d feel guilty for forgetting it for even a moment.

What the Lord has been speaking to me lately is how I need to slow down and enjoy life. It’s a call to focus on what’s really important, and to not sweat the rest. This is tough for today’s woman, but as I’ve started to practice resting in God and seeing my priorities through His eyes, it has been much easier.

Christmas-time is an ultimate challenge when it comes to focusing on what’s important. We want to focus on the presents when the Lord wants us to focus on the gifts. We tend to be motivated by shopping lists, recipes, family get-togethers, and the like. We desire to create traditions, send cards, and take that Santa photo. We look to bake cookies with the kids, seek out the very best, Christmas light shows, and find the most popular, coveted toy on our kids’ lists. And while all these things are wonderful and good, and I’ve done many of them, if they stress us out then they’re not worth the wrapping paper they’re packaged in. If our Christmas pursuits are causing us to fret and fuss then we’re losing focus on what’s truly important.

Over 2,000 years ago God gave us the perfect gift, a gift of life that was wrapped up in unconditional love. Our job is to carry on the tradition of love. We’re supposed to love Christmas, not stress out over it. Not go into debt over it. Not run, run Rudolph until we can’t even see the gift of it. We’re to love others, love ourselves, and love the reason for the season. We’re not meant to rush the presents presence of Jesus in our life. We’re meant to unwrap it slowly, joyfully, and in a spirit of rest.

This year I haven’t rushed to try and fit in all the things. To do all the things. To buy all the things. To see all the things!

I guess we were quite a sight, huh? A wide-eyed seven year old talking at top volume, a giggly five year old in her shadow, a tiny toddler running ahead with excited screams, and then me bringing up the rear. I get it; I do. I probably even knew what you were gonna say before you did. After all, I’ve heard it hundreds of times before, and I smiled when you looked upon us and uttered, “Three? Bless your heart!”

Indeed.

A couple of years ago I might not have smiled back so sincerely. See, back then I even kinda took a remark like yours offensively. I’d think, I’ve got this, mister!! You don’t have to worry about me!!

I mean, I had made the decision to have each one of my children, and knowing full well the huge responsibility of parenthood, I found it unnecessary for me to be the object of other’s pity. Yeah, I was busy, even overwhelmed, but I took a “bless your heart” with about as much pleasure as I took a “you do know what causes that, right” when I was pregnant again. Seething rage. I knew what I was getting into, doggone it, and I didn’t need any well-meaning stranger or acquaintance feeling sorry for something I wholeheartedly enjoyed.

So how did I genuinely smile at your remark? Well, I reckon like anything, time changes a person. After spending a couple of years as a mom of three girls, close in age, and after watching their particular and challenging personalities emerge I had discovered a lot about myself. The most humbling, I suppose, was learning that I had no idea what I was doing much of the time. So even though I had prayerfully planned each pregnancy with my spouse, in the end I still didn’t know what to expect. I had no idea how hard it would really be! I had no clue how one sister could be so different from the other, or how instead of getting easier, it got harder.

To tell you the truth, most days I’m a mess! Yes, it’s wonderful. I love it, and I wouldn’t change a thing, or trade my life with anyone else’s for even a moment. But dang, it’s challenging. I’m on this learning curve, and I’m not sure I’ll ever get things totally figured out. So if you want to bless my heart, by golly, I’ll take it. I need all the blessings I can get.

Today’s society is all about strong women who don’t need anything from anyone. I am woman, hear me roar, and whatnot. But I’ll be honest; I’m not too proud to admit it. This mom thing is hard. I could definitely use your prayers, kind thoughts, blessings, and smiles. Heck, I’ll take a gallon of chocolate chip ice cream if you’re offering that.

So I guess what I want to say is this. Thank you. Thank you for taking the time to see the chaotic, but beautiful journey I’m on. Thank you for noticing my sacrifice, but also my gift. Thank you for understanding that mommas are amazing, but that we also need all the bless your hearts we can get. A mother’s heart is huge and her role enormous. So any favor you want to dole out my way is mightily appreciated.

Being a mom is the hardest thing I’ve ever loved, the most challenging endeavor I’ve ever enjoyed, despite the frustrations. Mothers should be proud of how skilled they are in the task God has given them, but never so smug that we can’t take praise. After all, “bless your heart” is just another way of saying, “wow, you’re doing great with that!”

I walked into the fellowship hall with my children and several bags in tow. As my girls scattered in excitement to play I set my sacks down. The one that held food was a plastic bag from a gas station, and I cringed as I looked across the snack table provided. Everywhere were cute Christmas dishes, crockpots, and across the room several moms iced homemade cupcakes. I had two bags of Chester Cheetos Cheese Puffs, cause who doesn’t like those, right?!

I should have at least brought a decorative bowl to put them in, I thought.

But I hadn’t. Because I barely made it on time. And I only remembered I was even lacking in the required snack to share at around nine o’clock last night. So my gas station grab bag was as good as it was gonna get. I had considered a quick trip to the Kroger for something more special, but there really wasn’t such a thing as quick with three little kids and car seats. So…

I already had felt bad about my frazzled mood when rushing the children out the door. I had awoken long before them to set out clothes and a bag of wrapped gifts to exchange, but still we were racing towards the end. That was just our jam, baby.

Yet when I first looked at those sweet ladies with cupcakes, the homemade hor d’oeuvres, and all the cute kiddos in ruffle pants (which I admittedly adored) I felt like I was lacking in the mommy department. I felt subpar and had even spoken as much to my husband via text before arriving.

“Do you think I’m a subpar mom because I get so frazzled at things like this? Others don’t seem to.”

I’m not sure what it is about women that feel we must be doing something, but also doing it well. It’s like our anxiety rises when we’re not rushing about, and we begin to wonder what we’re missing or forgetting. We feel our worth is based a lot on our performance, and thanks to the world around us we have a preconceived notion of what that’s supposed to look like.

Whether we want to admit it or not we’re blinded by the sparkle. We see the glitzy world social media displays, we thumb through magazines or Pinterest with a yardstick ego, and we watch Mrs. Jones even if we think we don’t. In a world that says, “look at me,” and one that captures in fully-filtered glory the highlight reel of the everyday mundane we begin to see the world through rose colored glasses. Or sometimes green ones (in the case of unintentional envy). Even ordinary circumstances like this morning are viewed through a tainted expectation and standard we hold ourselves to, and despite our understanding that we all hold certain talents and gifts, it doesn’t matter.

So what happens in today’s warped world-view is everyone puts their best foot forward always, and we begin to strive for a phantom perfection that cannot be found. Mothers grade themselves more sternly than my chemistry professor in college marked through our lab books, and they are left feeling like they didn’t make the grade. Women hold themselves to unrealistic beauty standards, and young couples enter matrimony thinking they’ve found the perfect mate. When they realize their partner isn’t they assume divorce is the answer because surely that shining knight is out there somewhere. Kids get dressed like supermodels since that’s the standard norm nowadays, and we laugh at pictures of our own selves as children.

“What were my parents thinking?” We ask.

Hmmm. What were they thinking indeed?

Perhaps they weren’t as entranced by the social standards we currently strive to maintain. Maybe mom wasn’t worried about being perfect, but rather enjoying the ride.

When I had texted my husband in a regrettable, embarrassing moment of self-loathing he had responded so lovingly. He could have rolled his eyes and ignored me. He should have! After all, I knew the truth. I knew that perfection wasn’t some worldly standard I needed to obtain to keep up with those around me, or my own head. Perfection was a state I already existed in when I rested in God’s grace, the fact that He lived in me, and by allowing Him to lead my life. Perfection was obtained through Him. I knew this, yet my husband still responded.

You just don’t see it. You are a wonderful mom because those kind of things don’t matter anyways. What makes you a good mom and wife is that you LOVE your kids and husband. I know God is first in your life and so you know what love really is. We think you are wonderful 😘

When I battled my moment of self doubt this morning it wasn’t due to anyone else. No one did anything that made me feel that way! I just did. Until I snapped out of it, that is. There were always situations and circumstances that could make me feel like I was lacking, but that wasn’t from the Lord. I have realized that Perfection is a battle we face in today’s world. It’s the lie the devil feeds us to make us think we’re not good enough, to sabotage our relationships, to shift our focus from what’s truly important, and to separate us from God’s perfect grace that wants to work in our lives.

What’s the price of perfection? It’s the cost that takes our eyes off Jesus, and it places them on ourselves, our works. The world says if you work hard enough, practice enough, pray enough, do enough, that you will obtain the perfect life. But the Lord says, “I have already given it to you, my child.”

John 10:10

The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full.

Have you ever had a situation occur and immediately you say, “thank you, Lord.” It’s like you just know immediately God intervened on your behalf, spoke to your heart, protected your life, and worked a miracle just for you. Sometimes these situations are big, and sometimes they are small, but they are always wonderful. Whether you call it a whisper from the Lord, or as I usually refer to them, as a God wink, it is divine intervention. It’s Jesus taking the wheel. In this story… literally.

It was late, and I was exhausted. That’s typically what happens after a full day of homeschooling, housework, and then an exciting night of festive fun. I drove through the dark night in my warm minivan with three darling daughters strapped in behind me. I could feel my fatigue, and you know how sometimes when you drive home tired it’s like you’re on autopilot? That was me. I was going through the motions and the routine of a familiar drive home.

As we crested a hill before the turn into my neighborhood I noticed a yellow street sign of caution on the side of the roadway. It’s weathered appearance proved to me it had always been there, but for some reason even though I had driven that road thousands of times, I never recalled noticing the sign before. Sometimes you just don’t notice your surroundings. But there it beamed in cautionary brilliance for the first time to my eyes.

Dangerous Intersection Ahead

Dangerous intersection ahead, I reread to myself, and I thought, it sure is. I had always known it was. My turn sat on the top of a hill, and it was one of those blind positions, that made visibility difficult when it came to oncoming cars. Whether pulling out onto the main road, or whether turning off the main road into my neighborhood, it was indeed a dangerous intersection. Sure, I’d always known that.

I drove onward in a “well duh” kinda attitude, making my way towards my turn. It was dark, like I mentioned before, so that made things easier when it came to seeing oncoming traffic. So as I came to my left hand turn I noticed that no headlights were coming my way. The way was clear with no waiting necessary, but a split second before I cut to the left I heard a warning in my head.

Dangerous Intersection Ahead, it blared, and despite zero traffic in sight I came to a complete stop just to make sure.

Immediately a car with dimmed headlights crested the hill, and I chuckled nervously and lightheartedly. Thank you, Lord.

I knew I was tired. I knew I had not seen that car. I knew without the street sign being pointed out to me, and without God rereading it to my spirit, I most likely would have quickly and distractedly, driven by familiar routine, turned my vehicle full of my children right in front of that oncoming car. Thank you, Lord, I didn’t.

He does this, a lot, you know? To us all. And we don’t even realize it. Many times we call it luck, or we say, “that was a close call;” never seeing that it was the hand of God delivering us. We miss the fact that the inconvenient delays are God’s protection, or that the Beware, Not This Way’s are His signs. They are everywhere. There’s no such thing as luck, only Jesus, or even His angel armies creating a hedge of protection all around. So when you consider telling Jesus to take the wheel, consider the fact that He already has. Now that is comforting!

Yesterday I got a text message from my husband stating he needed to come by my work to grab the church keys from me. It seems he had left his Bible there on Sunday and he was missing it big time. I laughed at the thought of my hubby running around on his lunch break to retrieve his Bible, and I realized the man God was rising up in my husband’s spirit was not the same man I had married. He was cultivating a heart like David within the love of my life, and every aspect of my spouse’s character had improved as he grew closer to the Lord. As I watched him become the man God had always called him to be I felt so proud of him. One might wonder, as he grew in his desire for ministry, if I questioned how I fit specifically into it all. But no, I didn’t. I already knew.

Last month we celebrated our eighth wedding anniversary, and I grew tearful over the inscription my husband placed in the card he gave to me. The whole card was amazing, but one part really stuck out.

I could not be who God has called me to be without you by my side.

I think many times as wives we can make light over the actually enormous role we hold in marriage. We’ll focus simply on the job of the man as the head of the family and somehow forget how important we are. Wives are almost like the navigation system for their husband’s calling. They certainly help guide his steps. A loving wife inspires her mate and encourages that partner to his best. A wife helps cultivate growing ideas and shape ones that need refining. She offers insight that only the nurturing, emotional viewpoint of a woman can envision, she provides wisdom from her mind and heart, and holds a needed knowledge for the relationship. And boy of boy, does she pray! If man is the head, then woman is the neck that turns it. Woman was created from man, but she also creates in man a part of himself that couldn’t be lit without her inspiration, love, and presence there to help birth it.

I told my seven year old tonight, at her urging, the story of how her father and I met. We had actually met and fallen in love over 20 years ago, but due to our youthful indecision had parted ways back then. It would be ten years before God brought our lives full circle and we reunited in the exact place we had met. Until that time we both floundered through life searching for happiness, but it wasn’t until the Lord realigned our paths that He could use us for the other.

Now I’m not saying that my husband was an utter mess until I came along, but I will admit I was. In truth we both were struggling, yet something happened when we joined ourselves as one. It was like God created an explosion within us, and we somehow brought out in one another the best there had ever been. So while the beginning was rocky as God refined us, it still was better than it had ever been before. And somehow it continues to get better each and every day.

Our lives are fruitful because of the Lord. It is God alone that changes hearts. But sometimes often times He uses a helpmate to insure change, create courage, and inspire a life that follows the calling God has for us all. I take my role as helpmate very seriously, and thankfully my husband does too.

Opinions will differ. Some women will be flabbergasted at the thought, but many others are more accepting. The majority see it as an innocent substitution for when they cannot please their spouse, or perhaps even a great way to spice up their sex life. Some couples watch it together, while other women just see it as something men will do regardless. As if men are animals without control over their own sexual restraint. I recently saw this overwhelming acceptance of porn played out on a social media discussion and it saddened me so much. I realized it broke my heart because I once used to feel the same way.

I said as much to my spouse when he couldn’t understand why women didn’t see a problem with porn. I had in front of me a rare man, a lover of Jesus, who understood that pornography was demeaning to men and women alike, so I had to explain the way I used to think to him.

I used to not see a problem with porn. In fact, in all honesty, I enjoyed it. I used to watch it with my ex husband, and porn was just a normal part of our relationship. As a wife I wanted to keep my man happy, and if that meant being cool with strip clubs and nudie flicks then that was what I did. I thought that was normal. I thought it was healthy. I thought it was good for my marriage. But I was wrong.

The eyes are windows to the soul, so when you allow images to enter your heart that shouldn’t be there you will be negatively affected. You might not realize it at first, but eventually it wreaks havoc on your relationship. It’s poison. It’s a fantasy that you can never emulate, not that I’m sure why any of us would want to.

Pornography gives you a false sense of sex. It takes out the love and makes it all about physical pleasure, and that’s not what marriage is at all. Porn doesn’t allow real people with real problems that must be worked out. It doesn’t deal with body image issues postpartum, but instead creates an unrealistic body ideal. Porn wrecks self esteem of the watcher.

Pornography makes sex a game. It often depicts women being used and abused for the pleasure of a man like they are less than human. It’s animalistic in nature, makes it appear like women enjoy being weak and violated, and it’s no wonder it creates a false opinion of what women want and how they should be treated. Porn destroys healthy sexual relationships in marriage by trying to twist them into something they were never meant to be.

Pornography is an outlet for sexual pleasure. It’s an easy way for men and women alike to self satisfy without the messy (to mean, it requires) work of a real sexual encounter with their mate. I’ll be blatantly honest at this point for the purposes of this post. Neither myself nor my husband masturbate. When we want sexual satisfaction we find it with each other. Even when we’re tired or we’re not in the mood individually we will get there for the other. There’s no time or need for another sexual outlet in our relationship. We’ve got that base covered just fine. Porn takes the place of healthy, frequent sex in marriage.

Pornography is real. I think the biggest lie we tell ourselves is that porn isn’t cheating because it’s not real people who are a real threat. It’s just a movie, or just a magazine, but what we forget is behind that camera there’s real people having real sex. They’re getting paid to have sex on screen to give you sexual pleasure. So how is that much different than prostitution? How can a wife get mad at their husband for messaging a woman on Facebook, but not bat an eye when he ejaculates over the image of a real woman being sodomized on the TV screen? Don’t for a minute think that he’s not picturing her face when he later has sex with you. Just being honest.

Because here’s the truth about porn. It seeps inside your mind and changes how you view intimacy. It changes how you are sexually excited, and it creates a wedge between a husband and wife even if they aren’t immediately aware. It’s a gateway drug to infidelity, and it’s a substitution for intimacy in your own home. It’s a lie that twists the perception of the viewer and tries to diminish its participation in the destruction of so many lives.

Have you ever wondered about the people on the screen? Or is it easier to imagine they aren’t real? Sadly they are real people with real hurts that cause them to make the choices they do. Some are victims of child abuse, sex trafficking, or other atrocities you don’t even want to fathom. They are real people being violated and humiliated for your viewing pleasure. Imagine if that was your daughter on that screen? Or your son? If you wouldn’t want to watch your own child in a porn then why do you not have a problem watching someone else’s child on the TV?

I don’t say any of this from a pedestal, but rather from a regrettable place. I’ve been there, done that, and told myself there was really no harm. I told myself it was fun, and I told myself it was helping my marriage rather than admitting the truth that it was killing it. One factor (among many) in the dissolution of my first marriage was an acceptance of pornography in our lives. I never want my words to be received as condemning, but rather me trying to pass along the things I’ve learned along the way.

Last night I explained to my current husband that women were different than men. Sex for men is more physical, while sex for women is more emotional. Often times women will accept pornography into their marriage because they think it’s a nice additive to the sexual relationship. They like the fantasy, and their husbands like it all. Many women think porn is just something you do in your relationship, like buying lingerie to spice things up. What we don’t see is that porn is a sneaky mistress we let inside our marriages that steals our husbands’ hearts.

Laugh all you want, and say that I’m taking it too seriously, but perhaps consider this. You are worthy. While I share from experience, mostly I share from a place of love. Because you are worthwhile, and you are special and precious. And you are all your husband needs. Or you should be! When God saw Adam was lonely He created Eve. He didn’t create Eve and a good DVD. Eve was enough, and so are you. There shouldn’t be room in your marriage bed for any other woman, even the one you think is “fake” on the television. Women should be demanding complete monogamy and faithfulness in their marriages because we deserve it. We tell ourselves porn isn’t competing with us or taking away from our marriages, but that is the biggest lie out there. Porn is destroying marriages, the lives of the people on the screen, and the minds and ideals of anyone who views it. It’s the most accepted form of spiritual death out there, and sadly most wives are okay with it. It’s the sneaky mistress we open the door for and invite inside on a regular basis, and until we lock the door to it, our marriages will continue to suffer.

Meet Brie

Brie is a thirty-something (sliding ever closer to forty-something) wife and mother. When she's not loving on her hubby, bouncing a happy toddler on her hip, chasing her preschooler, or teaching her six year old at the kitchen table, she enjoys cooking, reading, and writing down her thoughts to share with others. But honestly she loves nothing more than watching a great movie, or a hot bath, alone if the children allow. Which never happens.Read More…

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